


anything for a klondike

by darthjamtart



Series: choice of an aesthetic [2]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Genderswap, girl!Charles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-12
Updated: 2011-07-12
Packaged: 2017-10-21 08:02:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthjamtart/pseuds/darthjamtart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlotte and Raven, the early years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	anything for a klondike

"It's a mutation," Charlotte is saying, leaning low across the table, as Raven watches from the corner. "A very _groovy_ mutation."

"Are you calling me a mutant?" the girl says. She has dark hair and pale blue eyes, and a small notch in one ear.

"Mutations," Charlotte says, earnest and grinning, "brought us from single-celled organisms to the dominant form of life--"

She's cut off by the girl's drink splashing in her face. Raven waits a beat, then strolls over and offers Charlotte a napkin. Charlotte takes it and calmly wipes her face.

"Someday that line is going to work," Charlotte says, and Raven rolls her eyes.

"Can't you hear them planning to throw their drinks at you? That's the third one this week."

"I don't cheat _all_ the time," Charlotte protests, indignant. Raven snorts.

"Maybe you should."

"Just not with you."

"Just not with me."

Charlotte slants a sideways glance at Raven. "So, ice cream?"

"You're not supposed to read my mind!" Raven yelps, glaring at Charlotte, who laughs, gleeful and triumphant.

"My dear Raven, I don't have to."

***

They established the rule about Charlotte staying out of Raven’s head fairly early on. As children, it didn’t matter so much -- Charlotte didn’t have the control to truly influence people, and Raven felt no need to keep her thoughts private. Charlotte’s powers developed exponentially around puberty, however, such that a stray thought would sometimes bring Raven to her, along with whatever it was Charlotte wanted.

“Ah, thank you, Raven. I was just thinking that I wanted a fudgesicle.”

Raven absently started eating her half of the frozen treat. “But I don’t even _like_ fudgesicles,” she said eventually, staring at the now-bare stick.

That was in May, and by the time summer was in full swing, they’d emptied the mansion of fudgesicles, klondike bars, and dixie cups. Charlotte was lounging on the lawn with an ancient copy of _Science_ , reading about fruit flies, when Raven stormed across the grass and confronted her, hands on hips.

“My pants don’t fit!”

Charlotte didn’t look up. “Again? You’ve already got two inches on me.”

“Not that way!”

Charlotte sighed, carefully tucking a bookmark into the journal article that she’d already read six times. There were increasingly tiny notes scribbled in the margins. “Can’t you just...make yourself smaller?”

Raven appeared to be enraged by this suggestion. “That’s not the point!” She also appeared on the verge of tears, and Charlotte sat up, concerned. “You have to stop making me think about how badly you want a klondike bar!”

Charlotte nodded, wide-eyed, and Raven scowled at her but looked somewhat appeased. “Scout’s honor,” Charlotte said, holding up three fingers.

“You’re not a scout.”

 _FUDGESICLES,_ Charlotte thought, squinting and bringing her fingers up to her forehead. Raven looked blank for a few seconds and actually took a half-step back toward the house, in the general direction of the kitchen, before shaking it off.

“Promise!” she shrieked, pouncing on Charlotte and snatching up the cherished copy of _Science_. “Promise to stay out of my head, or I’ll tear it to pieces!”

 _Drop it,_ Charlotte thought instead, smiling victoriously when the journal hit the grass. Raven’s eyes narrowed.

“You can’t stay in my head forever,” she hissed. “You have to sleep, remember?” Her smile grew as Charlotte’s faded. “I’ll burn the library.”

Charlotte shot to her feet. “You wouldn’t!”

 _“Try me!”_

Charlotte studied Raven, then slowly extended her hand. “I accept your terms.”

“You mean you surrender. And you’ll stay out of my head.” Raven’s smile had turned smug, but she shook Charlotte’s outstretched hand good-naturedly. Charlotte scowled.

“It’s not surrender,” she muttered, as Raven settled on the grass beside her to bask in the summer sunlight. “It’s a diplomatic resolution.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to St. Augustine, who doesn't even _like_ pears.


End file.
